


Keep Calm and Don't Touch the Hat

by sparkly_butthole



Series: Losers Bingo [1]
Category: The Losers (2010), The Losers (Comic)
Genre: Getting Together, M/M, Masturbation, No hats were harmed in the writing of this fic, fantasies, hat kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 08:23:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20927117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkly_butthole/pseuds/sparkly_butthole
Summary: Jensen loves Cougar’s hat. LOVES it. Jerks off to the thought of it, of touching it and caressing it while Cougs sucks him off, of wearing it himself. But he never comes near it, because no one touches the hat.Cougar’s not stupid, though. And Jake bought him the damn thing, so why is he acting like this? He should know he can touch it - or anything else - anytime he wants.





	Keep Calm and Don't Touch the Hat

**Author's Note:**

> Yay bingo! This fulfills one of my nine squares, hat kink. Thanks to DarkCaustic for looking at it!

  
  


The best part about having time off is that Jake doesn’t have to be quiet when he’s jerking his dick. 

Sure, not having to risk his life on the daily is definitely a big bonus. And getting shot at sucks. Getting captured sucks a lot more. That’s not all or even most days at work, but it’s still a regular possibility. 

He also kind of maybe signed up for it, more fool him.

In contrast, he jerks off nearly every day, and the guys are  _ always _ there. The fact that they’re going through the same thing, each waiting for the others to finally fucking fall asleep so they can get off in peace, doesn’t help matters. Eventually at least two of them will give in and stroke off, awkward though it may be, and he  _ definitely _ didn’t sign up for that shit.

And Jensen’s not shy about it; he can’t be when he’s in close quarters with the guys all the time. Shy isn’t in the same ballgame as  _ silent _ , though, and Jensen’s a talker through and through, even when on his own.

Ergo: he rests his case for his own apartment off base. No matter how many looks he gets from the others, or how much more expensive it is, it’s worth it if he gets to run his mouth and moan with pleasure every once in a while. 

He settles into his soft bed like a man with a plan, lube next to him on the sheets, three dildos of various sizes keeping it company. His eyes linger on the largest for a second. It’s ambitious, but he’s that kind of guy. Why turn down a challenge?

Jensen’s nude with his legs spread wide and one finger trailing down his ballsack when he lets his mind start to drift. The spank-bank is full of good stuff, ranging from that filthy chick from the last porn he watched - Sasha something? - to the guy down the block, the one who wears skinny jeans like a second skin, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. He mentally flicks through the catalog, wanting something different than his usual fare tonight.

Problem is, his usual fare is becoming a bit of an addiction, and the catalog seems to have developed a crease in the page. It reminds him of that page in The Two Towers when Shelob fights Sam, how he’d read that fight again and again, enthralled by his own imagination and the fuel Tolkein had given it. 

And enthralled by the fact that Sam was ready to die for Frodo. Even though Jensen had later realized that was just as much a sense of duty to Middle Earth as it was to Frodo, Sam was still willing to lay down his life to save him. No  _ way _ were they just friends.

Jensen’s been pretty disturbed by the way his thoughts have headed in this direction more and more lately. Cougar is his Sam, or maybe he’s Cougar’s; they’re best friends who would do anything for the other, go to the ends of the Earth and beyond. So it’s gotten into his head that there’s no way  _ they _ are just friends, and it’s just… it’s  _ confusing.  _

And the thing is, Jensen doesn’t want to spank it to his teammate, no matter his feelings for the guy, because they’re out there to do a job and not let this shit get in the way. He might even be able to knock this whole masturbatory clusterfuck off, too, it’s just that that fucking  _ hat _ drives him up the fucking wall with lust. The same sacred hat  _ no one _ is allowed to touch.

Groaning and inwardly cursing himself, Jensen follows the thought deeper. His fantasies are usually bits and pieces of what he’d like to do or have done to him - rarely are they fully-fledged ideas with plot or maybe some dialogue other than _ fuck yes, right there, Cougs _ . 

So the images come and go. Cougar behind the scope of a rifle, hat hiding his dark eyes as he breathes out through those plump lips and takes the shot. Cougar observing him from across the room, silent and still and hidden by the hat but actively engaged in the goings-on anyway. Cougar’s breathy laugh, the way his smile lights up a room for all its rareness. Jake imagines Cougar’s breath would sound like that if Jake took him in his mouth, ran his tongue along the vein underneath his cock. 

Jake running his fingers along the hat’s rim as Cougar swallows him down - and the symbolism there is not lost on him, thank you very much.

Cougar riding him, bouncing and grinding like sin and breathing through it, eyes sparkling underneath the hat as he looks down at Jake, blowing Jake’s fucking mind.

Jake wearing the hat, how it would feel on his head, matting his hair, close, intimate, connected to Cougar in some bizarrely erotic way. The scent of him right there, pheromones filling Jake’s senses until he’s overcome.

Cougar putting the hat on Jake as he undresses, revealing long, silky tresses that Jake aches to run his fingers through. 

Jake jerking off into it while Cougar watches, mesmerized.

The utter depravity of _ that _ thought means he’s barely got two fingers in himself and hasn’t even gotten near his prostate when the wave of pleasure overtakes him, flowing through his veins and pulsing out through his groin until he’s left gasping for breath. 

Jake jumps in the shower afterwards. There’s plenty of time left today, and it’s his first day of a week-long leave. He’s in his twenties - he can go two or three times a day, so who cares if the first was at the drop of a (har-dee-har) hat? That was just cleaning the pipes in preparation for the good stuff. 

He has a feeling the good stuff is going to involve the hat in increasingly compromising situations, and honestly, after this lovely start to the week? Jake is fucking A-okay with it. He just hopes he can look Cougar in the eye next week.

  
  


***

  
  


“How was your week off all by your lonesome?” Pooch asks Jensen with a grin and a slap on the back. He hasn’t even seen the barracks since hauling ass to his apartment seven days ago. Hell, he’d hardly left the place once he got there. 

“It was great,” he hedges. “You?”

“Same old. Went out on another date with that Jolene girl. Glad she’s giving me a second chance. This time it went much better.”

“That’s great! Happy for you.”

“Yeah.” Pooch pulls him closer with an arm around his shoulder as they step into one of the small buildings assigned to special forces teams. Jensen breathes in the scent of soldier - crisp, folded laundry, post-workout sweat, boredom, and all. Pooch eyes him sideways for about half a minute as he settles in next to him on the threadbare couch before Jake has to ask. 

“What? I got somethin’ in my teeth?” 

“Nah,” Pooch responds, but his grin is way too wide, and Jensen knows he isn’t in on this joke, whatever it is. 

“You’re makin’ me twitch, dude. Tell me.”

“Well, I just so happen to have heard some interesting information a few days ago… “

Jensen makes a  _ hurry up _ gesture when he realizes Pooch isn’t going to continue without prompting. “This is getting annoying.” 

“Wait,” Pooch says smugly. “I’m getting to it. Now, Jolene works for the government, but she’s not enlisted.”

Jake does not see where Pooch is going with this, and Pooch laughs at the obvious bafflement on Jake’s face. 

“She lives next door to you, man.”

“Umm… okay?”

“She heard you.”

The floor drops out from under him. He feels himself slide backward, deeper into the couch cushions, thinks that maybe they could swallow him whole and he’d be fine with that. Being eaten by a couch is much, much preferable to this. 

Fucking hell, Cougar.  _ Cougar _ . He’d yelled or cried or whispered that name about a million times this last week. Which means Pooch  _ knows _ . 

_ Fuck. _

“You must’ve been killin’ it!” Pooch continues. “She didn’t see the women you brought home, but you were gettin’ your socks off all damn  _ week _ !” 

Jake is too embarrassed to comprehend much of anything right now, hopefully because the couch’s digestive enzymes are starting to work, so he doesn’t see that the gleam in Pooch’s eye is not about the blackmail Jensen would surely receive if he knew the (sad, pathetic, get-your-shit-together-Jensen) truth. It takes him several moments before the words register. 

“Wait… what? You think I was with a girl? I mean. Yes! Yes, I was with a girl. Several, in fact.” 

It sounds like bullshit to Jensen’s ears, the ramblings of a young teen with barely any hair on his nuts exaggerating his amorous exploits. Incredibly, Pooch buys it, hook, line, and sinker. 

“No wonder you wanted to get off base.” He slaps his knees, still strangely delighted by Jensen’s apparent conquests. 

“You got laid, too,” Jake realizes out loud. 

“Oh-ho-oh yeah,” Pooch says, leaning in conspiratorially. “Thank you for the soundtrack.”

Jake buries his face in his hands while Pooch cackles madly. At least his secret is still safe. 

  
  


***

  
  


The first days back on base are awkward as shit for him, if not for the others. Clay and Roque seem to dismiss Jensen’s oddness as the usual, but it hadn’t taken Pooch long to realize that something is up. Jake tries to avoid his concerned eyes by getting drunk at the bar just off base. 

The problem with going to the bar is that Cougar is always there, and always in that hat, and Jake has to watch as every man, woman, and child fall at his feet in adoration. Sexual or no, he has a charisma that is hard to beat. And Jake can admit his own faults, he really can, because he is jealous as _ fuck, _ and this isn’t something he could hide from himself even if he wanted to. This? This is like Frodo watching Sam marry Rosie. No wonder he wanted to leave Middle Earth than have to live around that nonsense. 

It’s Jake’s fifth night in a row at the bar, once again chased away from his room by Pooch’s sad eyes and once again faced with the sight of Cougar flirting with everything that moves. Jake fixates on a bottle of Jack Daniels, admiring the contrast between the amber liquid and stark, simple design. He twirls his beer in one hand, absently tapping the bar in no particular timing with his other fingers, and forces himself not to look, not to yearn, not to wonder whether Cougar’s been with any of the people he’s flirted with this last week. 

God, he needs a mission. Grainy sand stuck in his sweaty asscrack would be preferable to this. 

He meets Cougar’s eyes on accident from across the bar. Cougar lifts one eyebrow as his fingers flick the hat up just a touch, enough for Jensen to read the question there. Jake bites his lip and blushes when that callused skin touches leather. 

Cougar’s other eyebrow joins in the fun.

Much to Jensen’s dismay, Cougar flags down the bartender and pays for both of their drinks before grabbing Jensen by the arm and pulling him bodily from the building. They’re both half-drunk, but Cougar’s a lot better at hiding that fact, so Jensen finds himself stumbling after. 

“Uh, Coug? Cougs? The car is. Um. Back that way?” He waves in the general direction of the bar, which is now just a blur behind him. He checks his pockets for glasses, before realizing that they are, in fact, over his eyes, and that he is, in fact, fully drunk instead of just halfway there. 

“We’re walking.”

“All the way back to base? That’s like four miles.”

“You’re a spec ops soldier,” Cougar points out with gritted determination, and yanks on Jensen’s tee nearly hard enough to rip it. 

“C’mon, man. Stop. What’d I do?”

Cougar grinds to a sudden halt and turns on his heel. Jensen nearly runs smack into him.

“You have been at the bar too much,” Cougar breathes from, like, a couple inches away from Jake’s face, and he thanks his lucky stars that his dick doesn’t really work when he’s anything more than slightly buzzed because Jesus fuck, he’d probably come in his fatigues if that hadn’t been the case. He can smell the whiskey on Cougar’s breath, the earthy shampoo he uses, the fucking hat that’s nearly poking him in the forehead that he suddenly, bizarrely, wants to lick. 

So Jake closes his eyes and pretends this isn’t happening. “You’re one to talk.”

“I can actually hold my liquor.”

“Hey, that’s not fair. I do pretty well.”

Cougar gives him an incredulous look. Jensen nearly gets caught up in trying to count his eyelashes. “You were mumbling to yourself.”

“I was talking to the guy! The, the bartender guy!”

“About ‘stupid sexy Mexicans in their stupid sexy hats?’” 

Mother.  _ Fucker _ . He opens his mouth, attempts to say something like maybe _ I was doing no such thing _ ! but honestly, he’s too fucking tired to try to lie or even figure out the truth.

“What’s with you, Jake?” Cougar asks, and now there is real concern in his voice. “You’re avoiding Pooch, you’re either glaring at me or undressing me with your eyes… What’s going on?”

“I am not! Undressing you. Eyes or not.”

Cougar closes his eyes and rubs his temple with the hand that’s not holding on to Jensen’s bicep. And wow, Cougar’s touching Jensen’s bicep. Spank bank deposit made.

“You are getting sober, and then you are going to talk.”

“Well, if there’s anything I’m good at, it’s sticking my foot in my damn mouth,” Jensen mutters. 

He sees Cougar’s lips tighten in that way that means he’s trying not to smile. So yeah, they’re okay. Cougs apparently doesn’t mind that he finds the hat sexy, or the Mexican behind it, for that matter. He just hopes he can get out of this conversation before he says anything too damning.

  
  


***

  
  


After that, Jensen stops avoiding his best friend and sticks by Cougar’s side, same as always. Cougar actually seems to get it - the hat is something everybody compliments, especially his lovers, so this is par for the course as far as he’s concerned. Thank God. But when the call comes, he’s fucking relieved to be in the field again. Maybe he’ll finally get his mind off the hat. 

He makes sure to bring a new, glossy version of the spank bank, and it works… for awhile.

  
  


***

  
  


Cougar loves Jake. He knows that the team whispers behind their backs about the nature of their relationship, if it’s just friendship or something more. It doesn’t seem like just friendship to them, mostly because it isn’t, but Cougar just lets them wonder. 

But it isn’t easily definable, either, not even for the men involved, and Cougar often questions the true nature of his feelings. For as quiet as he can be, there’s a lot going on behind his calm facade. He’s smart - Jake has insisted that Cougar is nearly as smart as he is, in fact, which is high praise, indeed - but not in a manic way like Jake. Thoughtful. Slow to draw conclusions, but confident once he gets there. Ralph to Jake’s Piggy, Jensen had once told him, leading him on a wild goose chase for  _ Lord of the Flies _ in the middle of Afghanistan (and leading to some gritty nightmares once he’d finished it.)

Unfortunately, in regards to their relationship, he hasn’t quite gotten there. But he’s getting the feeling that it’s about to come to a head, one way or the other, and it frustrates Cougar to no end that he doesn’t know which way to run yet. He likes having a plan. Jake’s the one who can pivot easily on the spot. 

They’re on their first mission after that weird situation at Jerry’s bar, Cougar at the apex of a steep hill overlooking the estate of their target. The guy’s story doesn’t matter to him; he’s there to do a job and trust his bosses to do the right thing. Makes shooting a man less of a moral hassle if he does it that way. Jake couldn’t do it; he’d question orders from every ethical standpoint until he froze with indecision. No, Jake is better suited to defending himself, killing on the fly, as it were, or spotting when Cougar needs it. 

Which is why he’s currently on his stomach in the grass right next to Cougar, watching him with a grin as Cougar tries to line up a shot. He’ll have about five seconds to kill three men, assuming they’re in a small group when they exit the house, before they’ve scattered like cockroaches, out of range. Cougar’s mind’s on his breathing, on slow, syrupy time, empty of everything but breath and weapon. 

Everything save the one thing that can be in Cougar’s space and not be a distraction. 

“Can I help you?” he finally murmurs. 

“Just came to watch you work,” Jensen admits. “My part of this is kinda-mostly over.”

“So you’re bored then?”

Jensen snorts. “Buddy, I’m bored every second of my damn life.”

_ I’m willing to bet I can change that _ , Cougar thinks, and wonders where that thought had come from. His mind has an odd way of handing him answers, that’s for sure. When the calm before violence is the best time for clarity - or, in this case, homosexual awakenings - it says a lot about him, and very little of it is good. 

“Anyway,” Jensen continues, oblivious to Cougar’s ongoing existential crisis, “what are you thinking about?”

Cougar centers himself with another five deep breaths before answering. “The scope and the target,” he says dryly. 

Jensen laughs and turns so that he’s facing forward, lying flat next to Cougar, close enough that Cougar can feel his warmth but not enough to touch or jostle the sniper. Jensen will wait until the target’s gone before resuming his aggressively tactile… courting? Is that what he’s doing? Has he been doing that all along?

Cougar suddenly has an idea. He chuckles, just a brief puff of air, but Jensen notices - of course he does. 

“I’m about to learn something, I bet,” Jensen says with a grin. Well, Cougar can’t see him grin, but he knows what it sounds like. “Something F-U-N, by the sound of it.”

The comm line crackles to life. Clay’s annoyed voice rings loud. “Eagle, voices headed your way. Wolf is in position. Ready to move on your signal. Oh, and tell Mr. Pink not to bother my sniper while he’s getting ready to shoot.”

“You can tell him yourself, boss,” Jensen says with a snort, but he goes quiet and still the way Cougar had taught him. After all, if a sniper’s gonna have a tagalong, he’d better make sure to train said tagalong in proper etiquette. 

That’s not really fair to Jake; despite his surprising lack of  _ coup d’oeil, _ he’s been Cougar’s spotter a time or ten, and is a consummate professional when the going gets tough. But Cougar is definitely giving him shit for getting yelled at over comms. Can’t let that opportunity pass.

After an interminable amount of time - Cougar guesses thirty to forty-five seconds, but could be as much as three minutes in this state - the back door opens. He breathes one long breath in and three quick ones out, waiting for the perfect time, when the men are in the very center of the small yard and none of them can rush back to the house in time. 

He fires three perfect shots. Two of the men don’t know what hits them, and the third barely makes a noise as he drops. 

Just like that, it’s time to go. He wastes no time in getting his equipment together, then jumps up and sees Jensen’s wide grin. 

Time to do his little magic trick. 

“You’re my good luck charm,” he says, putting as much fondness in his voice as he can, before setting his hat smack on Jensen’s head. Then he turns to run to the rendezvous point, managing to get a dozen yards before realizing that his best friend is not following. Concerned, he turns to find Jensen staring at him, wide-eyed and wild, like a colt who’s going to bolt any second. He’s bright red underneath the hat, skin flushed with… Cougar doesn’t know, can’t get a read on it. Something intense, that’s all he knows.

“Mr. Pink,” Cougar urges, finally feeling the absurdity of that particular nickname, “we have a pickup in t-minus ten. Go!”

Jensen gets the memo and snaps into action, leading Cougar down the back of the hill and toward the alley two blocks away. Jake’s tense, still red… maybe embarrassed? That had been so unlike him, to freeze like that in the middle of a mission. What _ is _ his deal with the hat? Because this little trick had certainly verified that suspicion. 

_ Cougar’s  _ deal with the hat, well.... Jensen looks good wearing it. Damn good. 

At least he knows which way to run now. Time to see if Jensen will run the same way.

  
  


***

  
  


For all his usual reticence, Cougar has a couple of things going for him. One, he isn’t afraid to face down a difficult situation - as long as there’s no need to make a speech about it - and two, he’s dealing with the worst person to throw into an _ I have no mouth and I must scream _ style simulation. Cougar will get to the bottom of this because Jensen can’t help spilling the beans - unless he’s being interrogated at gunpoint, a clusterfuck in which he’d proven to be shockingly competent.

He’s a predator of the silent ambush variety, so Cougar waits three weeks until they’re in a safe house in the middle of Nowhere, Afghanistan, because the one thing that Jensen might do to avoid a conversation is run. So when Cougar corners him, he does so in the best possible location - the house’s tiny, moldy, rust-covered excuse for a kitchen. 

In combat situations, Jensen’s situational awareness is above-average, but in the overall scheme of things, hypervigilance isn’t one of his issues. It never fails to make Cougar snicker when he manages to sneak up on him, and today is no exception.

“Jesus, Alvarez, do you think you could maybe make some noise when you’re walkin’ around?”

Cougar can’t help but grin at the way Jensen’s clutching his chest like an old-fashioned damsel. He’d really wanted to be intimidating, to get Jensen talking faster so they could get this embarrassment out of the way, but Jensen is too fucking cute for words sometimes. 

Nevertheless, Cougar continues his approach, backing Jensen up against the wall of the breakfast nook. Jake’s eyes bulge when he realizes Cougar isn’t stopping until he’s well and truly in the corner, and his pupils dilate to the size of dinner plates when Cougar is within a foot of him. 

“Uh, buddy? What’s this about?” Jake asks, already a little breathless. It makes Cougar’s blood pump hard to hear it. His standard-issue briefs suddenly feel a size too small. 

He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t do anything but stare Jake in the eye without blinking. A challenge or a dare. 

Jake swallows so hard Cougar can hear the click of his throat. “Okay, yeah, this is about. Yeah. Okay. Okay. You’re right. I just don’t know… didn’t know how to… tell… or… “

“Jensen,” Cougar says, but it’s too late now, the words are rushing out of him in nonsensical bursts. 

“It’s not like I want… I mean, I  _ do _ want, but I don’t want to? Want, I mean. Look, it’s not. It’s not that simple, is the thing. It’s like, it’s the Army, and it’s not allowed, and there’s all that, y’know, people. Just. There are  _ people _ , Cougs, you see?”

Cougar is one of the least emotive people on the planet, or so he’s been told, but maybe one of the reasons Jensen can read him so well is because it’s fucking hard to be intimidating in the face of this much comedy. He bites his lip and relaxes - way easier to be a predator when you’re not thinking about it. 

“I just couldn’t stop thinking about it. _ It. _ ”

“It?” 

“The, y’know,” Jensen says with a hint of defeat, gesturing as well as he can while up close and personal, “the, the hat.”

Cougar grunts at the excuse. 

“No, I know, we’ve been over that. I’m not, like, it’s okay, Cougs. Didn’t think I was allowed to touch it. Forbidden fruit, and all.”

“You bought me the hat. It’s not just the hat.” It’s not a question. 

Jensen’s face turns bright red. Cougar suddenly feels bad for the guy. 

“I just. It  _ is _ , yes.”

“But also not.”

“Right. Right. You get me. You’ve always gotten me.”

“Because it’s me.”

Jensen leans his head back against the wall and stares at the ceiling. “I got you the goddamn hat,” he grumbles. “Yes. It’s you. Happy?”

With a deep breath, Cougar takes the plunge. “Very.”

Now that he’s admitted it, it’s like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. Whatever Jensen plans to do with that information is up to him - Cougar would never push for anything more than this acknowledgement. 

Jensen’s looking at him now, open and cautiously joyful. “Good. That’s good.” He clears his throat and opens his mouth to keep talking, but no sound comes out. Cougar waits it out, but after a good forty seconds, Jake hasn’t managed to do much but flounder like a fish.

“Did I just shut you up?” Cougar asks, somewhat incredulous. “All the crazy, embarrassing shit we’ve talked about, and this does it?”

Jensen groans and tentatively puts his hands on Cougar’s hips to pull him closer. “Wish you’d known that superpower sooner, huh?” 

Cougar tips his hat up so he can see Jake more clearly. “No kidding.”

“But to be fair, it won’t last long.”

Cougar removes his hat and places it on Jensen’s head so he can bite his neck without distraction. “Why is that?” he asks against hot skin.

“Because… oh sweet baby Jesus. Cougs, you can’t  _ do _ that. You’re, you’re.”

“Not impressed yet,” Cougar says before sinking his teeth into Jake’s skin.

“I’m just, I’m a jabberjay, I can’t stop myself, it just flows out like a mudslide in word form.”

“Maybe I’ll make it my goal to shut you up then.”

“Huh. Yeah. Good luck with that,” Jensen says with a happy sigh, tilting his neck sideways so Cougar can have better access.

“You’d better learn. We have three other teammates,” Cougar murmurs before kissing Jensen on the mouth for the first time. 

“Aw, fuck. Not that shit again.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I just realized that I’ve mentioned having to jerk off in front of other guys in like three of my four Losers fics. Apparently that is something I’ve fixated on. I also seem to like writing about these guys getting together. So that's a thing. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, guys!


End file.
